


You're Hotter than a George Foreman Grill

by poor_guys_headisspinning



Series: Pining idiots (with infomercial references as the titles) [2]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, also intense!sprace, and plot too don't worry it's not just a makeout fic, italian!race, please humor me and read this i promise it's better than the title, rated mature cause it gets a tiny bit frisky, soft!sprace, spot is trans sorry i don't make the rules, there's lots of kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:17:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poor_guys_headisspinning/pseuds/poor_guys_headisspinning
Summary: What happens when Race drives Spot home because Jack is on a date and tried to set them up.





	You're Hotter than a George Foreman Grill

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this took so long to finish? everyone was like "sprace sequel!!" and my brain was like no coward write everything else instead so I was stuck on it for a while  
> shoutout to Imnotweirdjustwriting (again lmao) for almost crying about the soft parts when I sent them to her

"You know where I live, right?" Spot asked, glancing over at Race and trying to look and sound uninterested.

Race gripped the wheel and kept his eyes on the road. "Of course I know. You've seen me hanging out with Jack before."

"Right. Yeah. Forgot. Sorry." Spot looked down and focused on not blushing. Why had he been stupid enough to hope that he would be the reason Race went to his house for the first time? He was friends with Jack, so of course he'd been there before.

"It's fine." Race glanced at Spot out of the corner of his eye before snapping his gaze back to the road.  _ Idiot, _ he told himself.  _ Do you want Spot thinking you're a bad driver? _ He gripped the wheel tighter and tried not to think about what he was going to do when they got to Spot's house.  _ That _ would probably make him crash.

The ride was filled with an awkward silence. Race made no attempt to fill it, and every question Spot asked him was given a one word answer. He knew he was being weird, and probably annoying, but every time Spot opened his mouth to talk Race had to make an effort to not imagine kissing it and instead to focus on driving.

“Race? Race! I thought you said you knew where I lived!”   


“What?” Race snapped his attention away from the road. “I do?”   


“You just drove right by it,” Spot pointed out. Race slowed down and turned his head to look out the window. Spot was right; he’d just passed Spot’s house. He swore and started backing up.

“Sorry, Spot,” he apologized. “I guess I was just a bit distracted.”   


Spot raised his eyebrows. “Distracted by what?”

Race looked away,  _ not _ blushing at all.  _ Just your eyes, your lips, and everything else about your stupid perfect face. _ “Uh, the road?”

Spot snorted. “The road. Sure.”

Race just clenched his jaw and didn’t respond. Spot sighed. Something was up with Race, and he wanted to know what it was. He wasn’t letting Race leave before he was told.

The car stopped in the driveway and Race turned it off to let Spot leave. Then he remembered that he was supposed to tell Spot how he felt.  _ Shit. _

"Hey, uh, Spot?" he asked, at the exact time Spot said, "Hey, Race?"

They both blushed slightly. Race gestured to Spot and said, "You first."

Spot hesitated. "Will you... will you come in? Just for a bit?"

Well  _ that _ made Race's job easier. "Yeah, sure."

They exited the car, Race locking it behind them and following Spot into his house. Race looked around the entranceway. He'd been there before, but it felt different with Spot. He took his shoes off awkwardly and went to the living room. Spot sat down on the couch, and Race sat on the other end.

Spot sighed. Race wasn't making this easy. "Race?"

"Huh?" Race was looking around, eyes moving anywhere that wasn't Spot.

"What's wrong?" Spot looked concerned, Race could tell from the fleeting glances at his face.

"What? Nothin's wrong," Race answered distractedly. Spot swore silently. Why was Race acting so weird and refusing to meet Spot's eyes? He thought about what he could do to get Race's attention and to get him to answer honestly, and before he could decide against it, he went for the most direct approach.

He leaned forward and grabbed Race's hand. Race jumped and turned to face Spot. "Spot, what-?"

"Tony." Race's attention was fully on Spot now. No one ever used his real name unless it was something really important. His eyes locked with Spot's, bright blue meeting soft brown. He nodded to invite Spot to go on. "What is  _ up _ with you? You've been avoiding me all week, since Jack said you would drive me home. Is it cause you don't like me anymore or something? I told you you didn't have to take me if it was a bother. Can you please just tell me what's wrong?"

Race's face paled slightly. "Spot, I didn't..." He dragged a hand down his face and groaned. He was really doing this. "I didn't mean to make you worried, I'm sorry. I was just a little... nervous, is all."

"Nervous?" Spot looked skeptical. "About what?"

"I have to tell you something, Spot."

"Is it that you're gay? Cause I already-"

Race interrupted him. "Not that. But I guess it's kinda related? God, this is hard."

"Just spit it out already. You know I won't judge you."

"Oh, I think you will." Race forced a small chuckle.

"Christ, Race! Just tell me! I'll start assuming things if you don't. Like maybe you're an assassin and you've been sent here to kill all of-"

"I like you, Spot! Okay? That's it, that's the big secret! Happy?"

Spot let go of Race's hand. He looked stunned. Race swore and curled his knees up to his chest, burying his head in them.

"You're lying." Race looked over at Spot, tears already forming in his eyes. He was confused. What could Spot possibly mean by that?

"I'm what?" he whispered.

"You heard me. Lying. You're just playing some shitty joke on me, trying to get my hopes up. It won't work."

"Spot, I'm not ly-"

"Is this some bet you made? With Jack? See how quickly you could fuck me over? That's a really low blow, Race, even for you."

"It's not a bet!" Race insisted. "It's the truth. I like you, Spot Conlon. Can't you just believe me? If you don't like me back then I'll just leave. But I'm not lying. Not to you."

Spot knew he was pushing Race away. He wanted to stop. Maybe Race was telling the truth. But he'd spent far too much of his life without any affection. He wasn't used to it. He couldn't believe Race, no matter how much he wanted to. He looked away.

"Why would you like me? No one likes me, I'm an awful person."

Now it was Race's turn to reach out and grab Spot's hand. "Sean. You're not an awful person. Please believe me. I know you dealt with some shitty stuff before Medda adopted you, but that doesn't mean no one likes you. If anything, it means you deserve a lot more love, more than I can give you. If you don't want me, I can go, but please, don't just push me away and assume I'm lying."

Spot stared at Race the whole time he was talking. Hurt slowly turned to disbelief, which slowly mixed with another emotion. It took Race a long time to realize it was hope.

Race had migrated closer to Spot during his speech, and now he was almost on top of the other boy. Spot's hand was still firmly between Race's two. He looked up at Race, a little startled by their close proximity.

"How do you expect me to believe you?" Spot whispered.

Race leaned in. He breathed out, "Maybe I can show you." He closed his eyes and pressed his lips gently to Spot's.

Spot flinched.

Race pulled back immediately and let go of Spot's hand. "Shit! Fuck, um, shit. I'm sorry Spot, I shouldn't have done that. Shit. I'll just go, I'm sorry." Race stood up to leave.

Spot reached out a hand to stop him. He grabbed Race by the wrist and pulled him back down onto the couch. He looked at Race. Race looked back, eyes searching Spot's face.

"Did you really... mean that?" Spot asked. "The kiss, I mean. Was that real?" Race nodded. "Good. Then maybe you won't mind if I do  _ this. _ "

Spot leaned forward and pressed a kiss of his own to Race's lips. They were soft. Better than he'd imagined they would be. Race kissed back, arms moving to hold Spot closer. He smiled into the kiss, breaking it off to rest his forehead on Spot's and laugh quietly.

"You're, an idiot, Spot, you know that?" His arms were still around Spot's shoulders, and he started lightly tracing shapes and patterns all over Spot's back.

Spot shoved him lightly, but he grabbed onto the front of Race's shirt to make sure he stayed close. "Why's that?"

"Cause I've been so obvious all week and you didn't notice anything, maybe? God, Spot, I was like, blushing and shit when you sat near me. The only explanation for you not noticing is that you're an idiot."

"Shut up, Higgins." Spot pulled Race in by his shirt, kissing him again. Race pushed Spot down gently so he was lying back on the couch looking up at him.

"Is this okay?" Race whispered. Spot yanked him down so their lips crashed together as an answer. Race gasped slightly, and Spot took the opportunity to tentatively push his tongue into Race's mouth. Race accepted it and moved his own tongue to meet it. He rested his right leg between  Spot's thighs, mostly to give himself more stability as he lowered his body onto Spot. Spot nipped at Race's lower lip cautiously, causing Race to move one hand off of Spot's back to run it through his short dark hair.

Spot tugged at the hem of Race's shirt, playing with it for a moment until Race whispered, " _ yes, _ " against his lips. He then moved his hand to the skin under Race's shirt, to his smooth stomach and chest, and explored under the shirt. Race pulled away to take it off, and when he leaned back in his lips moved along Spot's jawline instead of returning to his mouth like he'd expected. His breath hitched and he pulled Race closer.

Race ran his hands down Spot's well-muscled arms then rested them lightly on his waist while their lips collided and their tongues danced. Race couldn't believe Spot had never done this before. He seemed to know exactly what to do to make Race gasp and kiss harder.

Race grabbed the bottom of Spot's shirt and pushed it up, eager to feel their bare chests pressed together. Spot tensed and pushed his shirt back down, but didn't move his lips away from Race's. Race knew better than to question it, especially when the alternative was slowly dragging his lips down Spot's neck and applying pressure to try and make him moan.

It worked; apparently Spot's neck was  _ very _ sensitive. Race smirked and opened his mouth to bite down and suck a small mark on Spot's collarbone. Spot, whose arms had moved back to circle around Race, squirmed and dug his fingernails into Race's back at the sensation, gasping.

Race pulled back immediately, worried. "Was that too much? Sorry."

"No! No, that was, that was good," Spot admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "I liked it."

Race breathed a sigh of relief and kissed Spot again. He bit Spot's lower lip and pulled on it, eliciting a groan from the boy underneath him. Spot pushed his tongue between Race's teeth and tangled one hand in Race's curly blond hair. The other hand rested at the nape of his neck, making Race shiver and lower himself closer to Spot. Spot traced up and down Race's spine. Race dropped his hips down to grind against Spot's in response.

Spot's hips bucked up and moved against Race's, building friction. He felt a sudden surge of confidence. He put his hands on Race's bare shoulders and pushed him back, moving a leg to wrap around Race's waist. They were both upright now, Spot straddling Race and kissing down his exposed neck and chest. Race's breathing halted and he bit his lip to hold in a moan. Why the  _ fuck _ was Spot so good at this?

Race let Spot take control of the kiss. He pressed Race against the back of the couch and went back to his mouth, biting on his lower lip like Race had done to him. His teeth were harsh on Race's lip, and the moan finally escaped. Race's hands pressed into Spot's arms and he pulled Spot towards him, their teeth clashing slightly in his desperation to kiss Spot again. Their noses brushed against each other as Race draped his arms over Spot's shoulders. Spot's hands traced lightly over Race's ribs then settled firmly on his hips, holding him close.

Eventually, the kiss slowed down. Their lips stopped moving frantically against each other. Their touches stopped feeling like fire burning across bare skin. Their hands laced together and their kisses started getting sloppier because they couldn't stop smiling.

Race pulled away, eyes bright and joyous, and pressed his lips to Spot's nose, his cheekbones, his forehead, and anywhere else he could.

Spot laughed and held Race's face gently. "What are you doing?"

Race leaned forward and pecked Spot's nose one more time. "Kissing Spot Conlon," he replied giddily. "Got a problem with that?"

"Not really," Spot said. Race grinned and kissed his jaw. "Why are you so happy about it, though?" He looked down, somewhat embarrassed at showing weakness by asking that.

"Because," Race said, pulling Spot's face back up so they were staring at each other again, "I like you. A lot." He kissed Spot again. "Do you know how long I've wanted to kiss you? This is a dream come true, Spot. I still don't believe it's happening."

"Me neither," Spot muttered. He took Race's hands again and rested his head on Race's shoulder. It was warm and soft; he sighed contentedly and closed his eyes.

Race kissed the top of his head and held him close. He was relaxing into the embrace, his breaths slow and deep. Race wondered if he was falling asleep.

"Spot?" he whispered. No response. Race smiled.  _ Good. He probably needs the rest. _ Race slowly lied down on the couch, pulling Spot with him and taking care not to wake him up. He yawned.  _ I guess I need the rest too. _ He kissed Spot softly on the forehead and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off in the arms of his maybe-boyfriend.

Jack opened the door and dropped his keys on the windowsill. "SPOT!" He yelled, too excited about his date to notice that Race's shoes were there while he took his own off. "I have to tell you all about my date! It was amazing we had such a nice-"

He stopped in the doorway of the living room. He saw his brother lying on the couch, sleeping. He whispered, "What the fuck?" because he knew Spot couldn't sleep unless he was in his room with the door closed. He didn't feel safe otherwise. He walked closer, worried that he was dead or something, and saw Race. Shirtless. Cuddling Spot while they were both asleep.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" he yelled, clapping a hand to his mouth when he realized he'd just woken them up.

Spot jumped about a foot in the air and fell off the couch, hitting the ground with a soft groan. Race sat up, rubbing his eyes, and smirked at Jack. "'Sup, Kelly?"

"Jesus Christ, what did you two do while I was gone?" Race stretched, and Jack saw the many hickeys on his neck and bare chest. He averted his eyes, feeling dirty just for looking. "Never mind, I don't wanna know."

Race stuck his tongue out at Jack and pulled Spot back onto the couch. He laced their fingers together as they leaned against each other.

Jack finally recovered from his initial shock. "So I take it your heartfelt confession went well?"

Spot looked like he was about to punch Jack. Race tightened his grip on Spot's hand and instead poured as much sarcasm into his voice as possible and asked, "Spot? Has Jack always been this smart? I didn't know he was so fuckin' observant."

Spot snorted, but Jack merely smiled and started moving towards his room. He paused once he was halfway across the room, and called, "You're welcome!" over his shoulder before continuing.

"Well that was fun," Race deadpanned. "I think he got a real kick out of me being shirtless. Where did it even go?"

He spotted it a foot away on the floor and reached down to grab it, not letting go of Spot with his other hand. He held it for a moment, looking at it. He sighed and looked back at Spot.

"I should probably go." He sounded regretful. "I don't know how late Romeo's staying out, but Mama will be pissed if he gets home before me since I didn't tell her I would be gone."

"Can't you just text her and spend the night here? I don't want to be alone when Jack inevitably questions me about this then launches into an hour long description of his date with Crutchie. Please? Medda'll be fine with it."

"I can ask, but I should probably call her if I want her to say yes. And, uh, Spot?"

"Yeah, Race?"

"When I, uh, talk to my mom I kinda... um, do it in Italian? She likes it better than English so we speak Italian at home and on the phone. Just, um, warning you." Race played awkwardly with Spot's and his fingers while he talked, pointedly not looking at his face.

"You can speak Italian? Like, fluently?" Spot asked, sounding impressed.

"...Yeah." Race fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his mom in his contacts. "So just, like, don't be weirded out when you can't understand any of it."

He let go of Spot's hand to press call and put the phone up to his ear. Spot could faintly hear it ring twice before Race started speaking. He listened to the fragmented conversation, completely lost.

"Mama? Ciao, ciao, sto bene... Ho una domanda... No, sto bene, sono nella casa di un amico... Sean... Mama! Per favore ascoltami!... Posso passare la notte qui?... Sì, sua madre va bene... Per favore?... Sì, sì, lo so, lo so... Grazie, Mama!... Accanto, mamma, ti amo anche."

Race hung up and looked at Spot. Spot was staring at him in awe, mouth open slightly. Race blushed and shoved him. "What?"

"You know Italian," Spot said in wonder. "You're actually fluent in Italian."

"My full name is Antonio. My brother is named after an Italian city. You've heard me swear in Italian before! Why is it so surprising?"

"I thought you just looked up swear words," Spot admitted.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Is that a request?" Race smirked and obviously flicked his gaze down to Spot's lips.

Spot pretended to consider it for a moment. "Maybe later. Did your mom say yes?"

"Yeah, she said yes. Does this mean we get to make out in your bed now?"

Spot sighed. "Sadly, no. It means we need to humor Jack while he gushes about Crutchie. Then Medda'll probably be home and we'll have to listen to him tell the story  _ again _ at dinner.  _ Then _ we can make out on my bed."

"How will I survive that long?" Race gasped dramatically before pressing a kiss to Spot's lips.

"Calm down, we just made out for like an hour and a half," Spot teased, though he did nothing to stop Race's lips from exploring his face.

"Yeah, but then we napped. I'm ready for round two. Don't you want to spend more time practicing with the best kisser you've ever had the privilege to make out with?" Race retaliated between quick pecks.

"You're the only person I've kissed, genius."

Race stopped kissing Spot and looked at him, grinning. "Exactly."

Spot grinned back. "You have a point, but unfortunately I can practically hear Jack whining about having no one to tell about his date and I don't want him to complain to me later. Let's go."

Race pulled his shirt back over his head and took Spot's hand as they walked to Jack's room. As he let himself be dragged into the hour long commitment of listening to Jack, Race couldn't help but smile to himself. He couldn't  _ wait _ until dinner was over.

**Author's Note:**

> -this is the translation of the conversation Race has:  
> "Mama? Hi, hi, I'm good... I have a question... No, I'm fine, I'm at a friend's house... Sean... Mama! Please listen to me!... Can I spend the night here?... Yes, his mom's okay with it... Please?... Yes, yes, I know, I know... Thank you, Mama!... Bye, Mama, I love you too."  
> -in my mind there are 2 reasons Spot wanted to keep his shirt on: one, he'd just had top surgery a couple of months ago and didn't want Race to see the scars yet (I love trans spot with all my heart). two, he had some bad experiences at former foster houses so he's got a ton of scars and stuff that he didn't want Race to know about yet (sad? yes)  
> -the fact that Spot felt safe enough in Race's arms to sleep outside of his bedroom? iconic. I nearly wept while writing it  
> -okay I'm done bragging about my own fic now  
> -tell me what you think?? comments and kudos are always appreciated! I thrive when I get them  
> -I really like this universe I've created? Idk I might add more fics to it (like jackcrutchie first kiss, Race introducing Spot to his Italian family during an Italian dinner, maybe some backstory?) so if you'd be interested in reading more from this universe please let me know?


End file.
